Two-faced, Half-faced
by Ichthyophobia
Summary: Okiya Subaru needs emergency makeup help, Conan needs to stop kicking soccer balls inside, and Kaitou Kid enjoys taunting detectives, even if it means he has to help them. (Done for the "Help" contest at Poirot Cafe Forums. No pairings, spoilers for everything Akai-related.)


**A.N.: This story contains definite spoilers for pretty much everything to do with Akai, references Blush Mermaid quite a bit, and contains technical spoilers for the Scarlet Arc (which is not out in anime form yet). Read at your own risk! Also, as this was done for the Poirot Cafe "Help" competition, the original text is exactly 5000 words. **

* * *

Akai Shuichi, by any other name, was a hard man to rattle.

Cover blown as Moroboshi Dai? Fine. Hunted down by the most dangerous men he'd ever met? He could handle that. Fake his own death? Can do. Shoot out the tires of a pursuing car, from a moving vehicle, in the dark on a cliff while being shot at? A sniper needs steady nerves.

But this was... not good.

The evening had started innocently enough. Professor Asaga had mentioned they'd all be going to the opening of a new restaurant, and perhaps Subaru Okiya would like to come as well? Surely with his cooking skill, he could appreciate the chef's work more than the children could. He couldn't find a reason to turn the man down.

It was a tower restaurant. The children laughed at Mouri-san's adamant refusal to go near the windows. Suzuki Sonoko bragged that her family's company had helped to finance its building, to the small table that held her, Ran-san, and... Oh dear.

He was not an easy man to rattle, but _people_ utterly baffled him. His disguise was easy when he didn't know anyone. But when he did...

His sister leaned over Suzuki-san's phone, laughing at some video the other girl had cued up. He resolved, quietly, to spend the evening on the other side of the room, on the opposite side of the professor, as far away as propriety would let him get.

The food was as good as could be expected. The children kept vanishing from their table to go look out the windows, and the girls were huddled around Suzuki-san's phone the whole time. And for some reason, people kept recognizing Conan-kun as the Kid-killer. It took him a moment to realize why – Kid had scheduled a heist that night, and the target building was in view of the window that the children kept plastering themselves to.

The dinner ended without incident, though. There was a flicker of activity from the heist building that drew the whole restaurant over to the windows, but it subsided soon enough. All the same, the kids did _not_ want to leave.

That is, until someone screamed in the lobby.

What kind of idiot purse-snatcher tried to rob someone on the twenty-third floor of a skyscraper was a question he couldn't quite answer. What _happened_ to someone who tried that was a question he could. Ran-san, Masumi, Conan-kun and himself all burst into the elevator lobby at the same time, with Mouri-san shortly after. The robber made a break for the stairs, only to find Ran-san in front of him. He turned to find Masumi at his back. He narrowly ducked away from her (excellent) fast punch, had to duck back to avoid Mouri-san, and when the elevator dinged open he sprinted towards the opening only to find Okiya Subaru standing in his way.

That's when it went wrong.

Mouri-san grabbed the man's arm, and flipped him. In the same instant, Conan-kun shot off a soccer ball, straight at the man's head – or, where his head had been. The soccer ball glanced off the man's skull and continued on the entirely wrong path.

Okiya was fast. But the soccer ball was faster.

Pain exploded like fireworks in his jaw as the ball hit, knocking him over. What's more, the thing had a nasty top-spin to it, and he could feel in slow motion as it tore away his skin.

Or rather, tore his mask away from his skin.

His hand came up in an instant. Huge rip, right across the bottom half of his face, straight through the latex and leaving uncomfortable patches of spirit gum behind. He pushed it back on as best as he could.

"Subaru-san!" Conan-kun shouted, running to his side. "Are you okay?"

"Ah – I'm fine," he lied quickly. "I think I have a bit of a bloody nose."

Conan pulled his hand away, then froze when he saw the rip in the mask. The kid swore quietly, with a word he shouldn't have known for a good ten years yet. Then, "...Ew!" he said, reverting to little kid mode. "Come on, Subaru-san, let's go find a bathroom and you can clean that up."

"Bathroom's down that hall," said Masumi – _not Masumi! _Sera. Sera Sera Sera. He could _not_ afford to mess that up now. "Second left."

"...Thank you," he replied, his voice muffled by his hand.

"Conan-kun!" Ran-san said, scolding. "I've told you not to play with your soccer ball inside!"

"Sorry, Ran-neechan!" Conan-kun said.

"I'm not the one you need to say sorry to," she said sternly.

"Sorry, Subaru-san!" Conan-kun grabbed Okiya's free hand, and dragged him down the hall. "Sorry, sorry!"

They rounded the corner, and Conan-kun dropped the act. "Are you really okay?"

"Fine," Okiya replied. "Except for my face."

"Sorry about that," said Conan-kun, with less childishness and more guilt. "It ricocheted. I wasn't aiming for you."

"I know."

They found the bathroom – mercifully empty, with a wall of sinks and a small vent window – and Okiya got a better look at the damage in the mirror. Not good. It was a jagged rip, torn from the high part of his cheek all the way to the edge of his jaw, past where even a sick mask would cover. And the latex surrounding the tear had been stretched and distorted. Even if he managed to glue the torn part back into place, it would still be obvious. As it was, the darker skin of his real face made the mask look pale and sickly, and the patches of spirit gum on his real skin made him look diseased.

"Ew," Conan-kun repeated.

"Do you know how to fix this?"

"Sorry," said the boy. "That's my mo... Yukiko-oneechan's area of expertise. I don't even know if the mask is salvageable."

Okiya wasn't concerned about the mask. Yukiko-san could make another one, and though he didn't look forward to submitting to her enthusiasm for another few hours, he'd live. What he was concerned about was back in the lobby.

"I'll do what I can, then," he said. "Get the others to leave. Anyone who'd recognize me."

"So... Haibara and Ran-neechan, then?"

"And Sera-san."

"Oh?" Conan-kun looked briefly interested, but apparently decided it could wait. "I'll come back once they're gone."

He trotted off. Okiya examined himself again. Losing the mask entirely would be risky, but from anyone who didn't know him his real face would draw less attention than _this._ But if he took the mask the rest of the way off, he couldn't put it back on. And he had no way to carry the wig for the duration.

And if he were spotted... The chances were _enormously_ slim, he knew. But he couldn't afford to take the risk.

He started trying to tug the mask back into place. No. Not working. Made it worse. Not good.

Something thumped against the wall outside.

His hand shot up to cover his face again, and he dashed into the far corner of the restroom where he would have some cover. He could see something moving out in the darkness, almost like a bird – wait, no.

A hand.

On the twenty-third floor?

The lock clicked. The vent popped open. And something white popped through, and fell to settle on the sink below.

...A white top hat.

"Crap," said the person coming through the window. "Ah well. It stayed on this long."

Kaitou Kid pulled himself the rest of the way through the window, monocle charm swinging wildly as he flopped down onto the row of sinks. He stood, brushing himself off. Then he fitted his hat back onto his head carefully, and smiled into the mirror.

And caught sight of Okiya in his reflection.

"...Ah. Hello!" he said, turning with a bright smile. "My apologies for the interruption. I just needed to rest my wings, is all. I think it'd be a lovely evening to just... take a nap." He'd been reaching for something in a pocket, and the smile cracked a bit; whatever he expected to be there wasn't. "Or not! A lovely evening to... Huh." He tilted his head at Okiya. "Your face – is that a..."

He trailed off, examining Okiya carefully. Then he grinned, genuine this time.

"Well!" he said. "It looks like you want to be found about as much as I do."

"...Good guess."

"Your mask, though – may I see?"

The Kaitou Kid was supposed to be good at disguise, wasn't he? He hadn't really paid attention to news of the thief; he'd learned just enough to know that the Kid's M.O was the polar opposite of anyone connected to the black org. Still. He got the impression that even if he said no, he'd have the thief all over him.

He shrugged, and stepped back towards the sinks.

"Thank you."

It was weird, even by international-spy standards. The thief was tilting his head, looking over the mask from every angle, wide-eyed behind the monocle as if he had no concern at all for his own identity. Which he probably didn't. Knowing that Okiya was wearing a mask was probably enough blackmail that the thief's own identity felt secure.

"This must have taken _forever_," said the Kid. "The skin texture, the thinness, the molding, the _eyebrows_ – this is sculpted specifically for your face, isn't it? Who did this?"

"You have your secrets, I have mine."

The Kid gave a little pout at that. "Well. Tell whoever made this for you that I am _very_ impressed. Clearly could use some work on _durability_, but I suppose when it's not expected to stand up to Nakamori-keibu the flexibility is a bit more important." He pulled off his top hat, and set it down again. "Pity. It's a wonderful piece of work, but I doubt it can be salvaged."

"Should I take it off, then?"

"I didn't say that. Salvaged, no. You'll need a new one. But I can get you through tonight." He dug around in his top hat, and Okiya got a glance inside. It was lined with tiny pockets, and Kid flicked a few of them open. "We might have to invoke a sick mask, if I don't have enough foundation. What on _earth_ motivated you to wear a mask so far from your natural skin tone?"

Okiya stepped back. The thief was almost alarmingly friendly, with tones and movements designed explicitly to disarm. He'd seen too much of this sort of behavior in Vermouth and Bourbon to fall for it, but he wasn't sure he had a choice this time.

"What's the catch?" he asked.

The thief blinked. "No catch."

"Really?"

"I like a challenge," said the thief. "Is that good enough?"

"No."

"Hm. Well. Hold still, and I'll try to think of a reason for you." He grabbed Okiya's shoulder, pulled him back over, and uncapped a tiny bottle of makeup. He held it up next to Okiya's face. "Geeze, the lighting in here is terrible."

Two color-comparisons later, the thief settled on a tiny bottle of thick liquid, and set it down next to him. The next thing out of the hat, Okiya recognized – spirit gum. He started gluing the least-damaged parts of the mask back into place.

"Here's a reason for you," said the thief. "How about I need to rest, and I need you to not let anyone know I'm here? So I'm insidiously trapping you while I fix your face."

A bit more believable. But he knew better than to talk while someone was working on a mask, and he gave a one-sided shrug. The Kid pouted at him again.

"Picky picky. It's true _enough_. Hang gliding is hard work!" He moved the tiny glue brush away from Okiya's face, and gave him a chance to respond as the thief sorted through the hat for more materials.

"It's a lot harder when you land on a vertical," Okiya pointed out. The thief's smile thinned a bit.

"I was a bit desperate. Hold still." A tiny pair of scissors started cutting away at the worst of the damage, slicing at a long angle so that the seam wouldn't be apparent. "Are you a detective, half-face-san?"

"Not traditionally."

"Hm." The thief examined him a bit more closely. "You're as straightforward as I am. And that _wasn't_ holding still."

The last of the damage fell away, and the thief pulled out his glue again.

"Speaking of detectives," the thief mused, "there's another reason for you. Nakamori-keibu wasn't expecting a vertical landing, now was he? No. He was figuring on rooftops."

"This isn't an easy window."

"Tch – stop moving! I'm going to glue my hand to your face if you do that," Kid scolded. "And it was easier than my other options, considering the currents – and it provided a bit of cover as well." He pulled his hand back. "Here, move your face. I need to make sure this is stretching right."

"Cover?"

"Not enough moving. Keep moving. Come on, what are you, some kind of stoic James Bond? Poker face is _my_ thing."

"Why did you need cover?" Okiya asked again.

"Why do you think?" Kid asked sourly, and tugged his cape around to examine it. There was a small hole, torn cleanly through the tight weave of the fabric, about a centimeter across and alarmingly close to his neck. "Crazy-redhead-chan was trying for my head."

"Who?" _Chianti_?

"I guess I must have missed the part when she politely introduced herself before trying to blow my brains out." Kid scowled for a moment, then picked up his glue again. "Enough moving. Hold still. _Including_ talking!"

Kid worked in silence for a while, smoothing down the mask with careful fingers. Okiya caught a glance at himself in the mirror; the edges of the tear were clean now, and where Kid had finished the only indication of the edge was the change in color.

He used the silence to think. Chianti was _not_ the only crazy redhead in the world, but possibly the only crazy redhead sniper. What on earth had the Kaitou Kid done to merit _her_ involvement? Akai Shuichi's cover had been blown long before Kid's return to the spotlight, so he couldn't say for sure. But there were members that specialized in theft. Maybe...

His train of thought was cut off when someone knocked on the door.

"Subaru-san?" asked Ran-san, from outside. "Are you alright?"

"Er..."

Kid cut him off with a glare. "I'll be a few more minutes," he called, in a pitch-perfect imitation of Okiya's voice. "My apologies."

"Geeze," came Masumi's voice – _not_ Masumi, Sera, Sera, Sera. "How hard did Conan-kun hit you?"

He waited for Kid to respond, but the thief had gone an unusual shade of pale, and completely silent. "It's not as bad as it looked," he called. "I'm just cleaning up."

"Conan-kun, go check," said Ran-san.

Conan-kun cracked the door open, and caught sight of the Kaitou Kid. Okiya had never seen either look so shocked. The boy swallowed hard, and shut the door again.

"He has a while to go," said Conan-kun.

"Alright..." Ran-san hesitated a moment longer. "Subaru-san, the professor's already taken the rest of the children home."

"That's alright," said Okiya. "I came in my own car."

"Ran-neechan, can I go help Subaru-san?" Conan-kun asked. "You can go back to watching for Kaitou Kid with Sonoko-neechan."

"He's already gone."

"Maybe he'll come back!"

"Let the kid go help," Sera said. "It's his fault, isn't it?"

"Right. Subaru-san, please let us know if you need anything!"

The footprints faded, and Conan-kun stepped inside again. "What are _you_ doing here?" he asked, glaring at Kid.

"Helping," said Kid.

"Why?"

"Geeze, questions questions," said Kid. The false, poker-face smile from earlier had returned, and brought a light, playful tone with it. "I have my own reasons, Tantei-kun."

"And those are?"

"Aren't you the detective here?" Kid waggled his glue-brush in Conan-kun's face. "Figure it out!" Conan fumed. Kid's grin got a bit more genuine. "And if you want me to help, don't even _think_ about telling Scary-chan I'm here."

"Scary-chan?" Okiya asked.

The grin flickered away, and Kid actually looked embarrassed. "In my defense," he said softly. "She was in the men's restroom, and..."

"It's Sera-san," Conan-kun said.

Okiya paused. "...What did you do?"

"What I do to everyone!" the Kid said, hands raised.

"He knocked her out, stole her clothes, and pretended to be her."

Even under the face of Okiya Subaru, Akai Shuichi was a hard man to rattle. But _anger_?

Not so hard.

"And I would like to remind everyone involved," said the Kaitou Kid, apparently picking up on that, "that she very nearly broke my nose in for it. And I _thought_ she was a guy."

"It was a pretty impressive kick," Conan-kun admitted.

Masumi – _Sera_ – can defend herself, and apparently did. He breathed in deeply and forced himself to calm down.

"It was an absolute mistake and I am _never_ going anywhere near her, ever again," Kid said. Conan-kun snickered.

"And not just because she'll beat the crap out of you."

"Shut up, Tantei-kun," grumbled Kid. "Now do you want me to help him or not?"

"Go ahead."

"I'm almost done," said Kid. "A little more spirit gum, and then painting the places I had to cut."

"Why are you helping?"

"Because I can? Because I like a challenge?" Kid put his glue brush to Okiya's face, as if daring him to speak up. "Because I, too, rely upon masks to shield my tender heart from an uncaring world?" He grinned. "Though if we _really_ wanted to disguise him, we could just put fake glasses on him and have him call everyone neechan, riiiight?"

Conan's glare could have set fires.

"So what happened, anyway?" Kid asked.

"Soccer ball," Conan-kun said, still sulking.

"You inflicted that on _him_ this time? My deepest sympathies." Kid capped the glue again, and put it back in his hat before uncapping the little bottle of foundation and pulling a tiny, triangular sponge out of one of the hat's pockets. "There wasn't an obnoxious little note attached this time, was there?"

"It was an accident," Conan-kun grumbled. "I was _aiming_ for the thief."

"As you tend to do."

"The _other_ thief. A purse-snatcher."

"And you missed?"

"It wasn't my fault! Kogoro-no-oji-san grabbed him at the last minute!"

"And poor half-face-san had to pay the terrible price," Kid said, in a suitably dramatic tone. "Oh, won't someone think of the children!"

"Shut up." Conan-kun did not enjoy being made fun of, but Kid was hardly giving him a choice. Okiya tried to keep from smiling as Kid applied the makeup around his mouth and nose.

"I'm sorry. The _other_ children. Who _don't_ break faces with soccer balls." Kid paused for a moment, and Okiya watched as Conan-kun tried very hard to come up with a suitable retort. "I'm almost done," said Kid. "Can I count on not being outed in front of everyone, once we are finished here?"

"Who are you going to leave as?"

Kid shrugged. "No one in particular. I had planned on going home as myself. Though…" He gave Conan a look out of the corner of his eye. "Considering present company, I am looking at other options."

"_Not_ Ran."

Not _Ran-neechan,_ either, noted Okiya absently, but the little dance between thief and detective moved too fast for him to think about _that_ particular theory right now.

"Of couse not!" The thief said, mock-offended. "What do you take me for?" Conan glared. "If I had those materials I would be _done_ by now. Give me some credit."

"Not Sera-san either."

"I have full intention of _avoiding_ Scary-chan, thank you. Half-face-san, do this." He stretched out his face, pulling the laugh-lines out of his smile. Okiya obeyed, and Kid went to work smoothing the makeup with short daubs of the sponge. "Though now that I think about it, it has been a while since we saw Kudo-kun, hasn't it?"

"_No_," Conan-kun growled. "Ran's onto you."

"Ah, yes. And she kicks harder than Scary-chan, doesn't she? But if she doesn't see me…"

"Just leave as _you_," Conan-kun said in disgust. "I'll let you off. This time."

"Thank you." Kid started texturing the edges of the mask with the same short daubs, finishing the blending. "This should take care of it. Now, keep in mind; I didn't use primer, and I'm _out_ of sealer, thanks to Nakamori-keibu's latest plan. So you're good for a few hours, but be careful if you eat or drink. Don't rub it, and _don't _get it wet." He pulled the sponge away, finally, and grinned. "What do you think?"

Okiya examined himself in the mirror. It looked _natural_, as far as he could tell; His whole face was back to a healthy color, and even knowing where the seams of the mask had been he couldn't see them.

"Not your best work," remarked Conan-kun.

"Well, no. My best work uses many more supplies." Kid glared down at the kid, then looked back to Okiya. "If we had a bit more time and some better lighting, I would have worked some blush in. But we do not."

"We have plenty of time," Conan-kun objected. "And it's important."

"Mmm," said Kid noncommittally. "Tell me. How long will your friends wait for us?" Conan thought about that, but Kid didn't give him a chance to answer. "And I know your opinion of Nakamori-keibu is not high. But both I and half-face-san need to get out of this building before he works out my landing site and starts pulling faces."

Conan-kun grimaced, thinking about that for a while longer. "Fine," he said.

"Now. If there are no more objections…"

"It looks fine to me," said Okiya.

"Thank you," said Kid. "Then if you'll excuse me… I would rather _not_ change faces in front of a detective and a half. Out."

Conan-kun grumbled his way out the door, and Okiya followed. Kid waved as the door snapped shut.

"What's he even _doing_ here?" Conan-kun muttered, leaning against the wall outside the door. "I _calculated_ his landing site. It should've been two miles west of here!"

"Am I that predictable?" asked Kid from inside the restroom. "I'll have to work on that." Conan choked, and shut up.

Kid's disguise must have been much less intricate than Okiya's, because he emerged less than a minute later. Or someone with the same build emerged, at least. A stone-grey jacket over a printed t-shirt had replaced the formal clothes and cape, and a baseball cap hid the eyes in the place of the top hat. Everything else seemed to have vanished into the battered backpack. What little of the face he could see, though, had changed; the jawline was smoother and the bones less pronounced. Conan-kun had a better angle to see underneath the hat, and was staring up intently at the thief.

"It's not my real face," said Kid. "So don't go looking."

"What now?"

"Now? _I _wait for the elevator, and you two go distract scary-chan."

Conan glanced down the hall. "...New plan," he said quietly.

"Subaru-san!" Sera's voice echoed from the end of the hall. "Finally!"

"Ah. Sera-san." He forced himself to smile a little. "Hello."

"Geeze, I was starting to think Conan-kun had knocked your face off," she said. "Who's your friend?"

"Ah, this is…" He paused, and looked to the thief. "My apologies, but I don't believe I caught your name."

"Wakahisa Shou," Kid said smoothly, offering his hand. "Pleasure to meet you, miss…?"

"Sera Masumi." She took his hand and shook it, with a bright, crooked smile. "Pleased to meetcha." She looked back to Okiya. "You feeling better?"

"Yes."

"He should be fine," said Kid. "I'm training as a paramedic; I helped him get the bleeding stopped. All the same," he looked back to Okiya. "Remember what I said about the humidifier. It _will_ help."

"Of course. Thank you."

"Anyway. Kiddo. Nakamori-keibu's here."

_Crap_.

"He is?" Conan-kun chirped. "Does he think Kid is here too? But we saw Kid fly past the window!"

"I don't know," said Masumi - _Sera_ \- with a shrug. "But Ran-san and her dad are talking to him now."

"I'll go see!" said Conan-kun, and ran off. Sera-san followed.

"I doubt I have to say this. But _don't_ go near Nakamori," Kid said quietly. "_My_ masks don't stand up to him when he's mad. Yours will rip like paper."

"Right," said Okiya. "Is he mad?"

"Always."

They made their way to the elevator without incident, but when the doors opened at the bottom it was a sea of blue police uniforms. A man in a green-grey suit was the obvious leader, scowling with an honest sort of fury that kept everyone at least two feet away from him. Mouri-san was grumbling to himself by the door, an obvious red mark on one cheek. Okiya touched his own cheek lightly to feel a dusty texture there.

"Don't mess with it!" Kid scolded, in an older voice than he'd been using earlier. "You'll start the bleeding again."

"Nakamori-keibu!" A man with a clipboard jogged up to the scowling inspector. "The upper floors are clear. Everyone remaining in the building is down on this floor."

"Right." Nakamori growled. "I don't want anyone in or out without being checked - Kid's _here_, and he's not getting away."

Police stood like pillars around the doorways, tugging every face before anyone went out. And outside, camera flashes flickered like too-bright stars, both amature and professional photographers and a few video crews from local television stations. Okiya couldn't help but wince.

If he went through that door, his mask would come off. There would be a hundred photographs of his real face, spread halfway across the pacific within an hour. _They _would notice, and he'd be killed. Not to mention probably being arrested as Kaitou Kid in the meantime.

"Ideas?" he asked softly. The Kid paused for a moment before stepping around to stare him in the face.

"Ah - I told you not to move too much! It looks like it's started bleeding again, come on." The Kid's gloved hand closed around his own, and pulled him away from the main body of the police before gently shoving a handkerchief into his face. When the Kid spoke again, it was a quiet, almost-whisper, pitch and tone calculated to seem private without seeming suspicious.

"How important," he said, "is this face?"

"The person? Or…"

"The secret."

"...Worth my life."

The Kid sighed, and deflated.

"Go stand by Scary-chan," he said. "Nakamori's scared of her too. If they check her first… well, you can probably slip by. And if you can't… Argh, I hate this. You _owe me_. You and Tantei-kun both."

"...Right." Not that he enjoyed being in debt to an internationally wanted _thief_, but if it got him out of here alive…

"Though Tantei-kun will probably claim that him _letting me go_ makes us even. Like that even counts." Kid pouted, looking more like a child than Conan-kun did most of the time. "Good luck with Scary-chan. I'll be watching."

Okiya nodded, and turned away to obey. When he glanced back, the Kid had vanished.

"Subaru-san!" Sera-san was standing with Ran, who noticed him first. "You're doing better?"

"Yes, thank you. Though I need to be careful, or the bleeding will start again."

"Oh… Maybe we should talk to Nakamori, then, or else he'll…"

Sera grinned one of the pointy little smiles that made people wince. "I'll talk to him."

Sera sauntered over to the man in the grey-green suit - whose face turned the exact shade he was wearing the minute he saw her.

"Se- Sera-san!" he stuttered. "What are you doing here?"

Out of the corner of his eye, Okiya spotted the Kid moving, footsteps silent among the sea of police officers, unnoticed compared to whatever _fascinating_ thing was apparently about to happen between Sera and Nakamori.

"We were at that new restaurant opening. Need to check us before we can leave?" The grin got pointier. Men started wincing all around, and Nakamori took a step back.

"Ah, yes, but…" he swallowed. "We… won't be too harsh about it?"

That, apparently, was good enough. Sera shrugged, and the men around her relaxed.

"Right. Akiyama? Check them, but don't pull too hard."

Great, but _any_ tug on his face would either pull away the latex or smudge the makeup. He glanced back to where the Kid had been - and no longer was.

Nakamori's assistant was a thin man with smiling eyes, and Okiya had no excuse to run from him. Blown cover was better than _dead_, though, and he took a step back, getting ready to…

Except nobody was looking at him anymore.

Something had fallen behind him, hitting the ground with a soft _clink-clink-clinclinclink_ as it settled. He turned to see a diamond necklace sparkling against the pale tile, settled halfway between Conan and the disguised Kid. Conan-kun looked smug, and the Kid's grin looked forced.

"Kid!" Nakamori and Sera bellowed simultaneously.

"Get him!" Nakamori shouted, and the sea of police moved like a tsunami. Conan dashed back to get out of the way, and Kid set off a smoke bomb. The pile of officers managed to miss him entirely, and when the smoke cleared, the person Kid had been was gone, and the reporters and photographers outside had kicked down the door to get in.

Kid was nowhere to be found. A reporter made the mistake of asking Nakamori for a quote. His response was unprintable.

But Kid was gone, and once Conan agreed with that, the rest of them were free to go. Okiya started to think it was over.

Until a photographer, getting a great angle of Conan holding up the recovered necklace, hissed: "_You owe me. Big time._"

...And he could deal with that.


End file.
